Kids' Haven Blog

a past participant shares her story

When I first walked into Kids’ Haven, I was terrified. I didn’t want to talk about how my dad died or how I was doing; these were the same questions everyone was asking me with a look of pity on their face. I was tired of people trying to get me to talk about it. I had always been really close with him and I was still processing his death; the fact that he wasn’t there anymore was something that I was still kind of denying, and being at a grief support group made everything feel too real. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about what I was feeling because I didn’t exactly know what I was feeling; everything was numb.

I was eight years old when my dad died. It was the summer before third grade, my family had just moved to Lynchburg, and suddenly I was dealing with the loss of my father. My family started going to Kids’ Haven that fall, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it. At dinner, even though the conversation was usually pretty light hearted, I didn’t talk very much, and in groups I shared very little, mostly listening to what others had to say. I was content with listening, and no one ever made me say anything if I didn’t want to.

Even though I wasn’t really sharing, my family continued going to Kids’ Haven, and slowly I grew more comfortable; as I listened to more people talk about their loss, I began to make sense of what was going on in my head. Hearing everyone’s stories made me feel less alone. I had lost my dad, but others had lost their moms, siblings, grandparents, uncles, and aunts. Even though everyone had a different story, I could relate to their experiences; the things going on in their head were the same things going on in mine. I also developed a really close relationship with some of the facilitators, and I began to feel more comfortable talking in the group. What was once an incredibly daunting, stranger-filled place became something I looked forward to every other week. It was somewhere that gave me a break from whatever was going on in my world, a place where I could just talk to people who knew me and were excited to talk to me. I started contributing more to conversations and talking about my dad, not necessarily how he died, but at least some of the things I was feeling.

I didn’t fully tell the story of my dad’s death until about three years after I started going to Kids’ Haven; it took me a long time to get to a place where I knew what I wanted to say and felt comfortable saying it. And as I told the story, there was no judgement or pressure; I could stop at anytime. I wasn’t talking because someone was making me, but because after hearing so many others talk over the years, I knew that it was what I needed to do to fully accept my father’s death. As new people joined our group, as I sat next to their familiar shyness and fresh grief that had once been mine, I now took the lead in sharing. Just as I had listened to so many before me, I knew that they now needed someone to listen to, someone who could show them that things were going to be okay and eventually the world would make sense again.

Kids’ Haven also gave me an outlet to share certain things that I worried were too sensitive to share with my family. Sometimes, especially near the holidays or an anniversary when there were a lot of memories floating around, I resisted talking about my dad because I was afraid of upsetting my mom or brother. Even if it wasn’t something particularly sad, even if I had a happy memory that I wanted to laugh about, I felt guilty because every muscle in my body was telling me that I should be crying. At Kids’ Haven though, I could talk about some of my favorite stories - like the time he organized a four person soccer game in our front yard or how we’d used to jam together, him playing the guitar while I sang - and I didn’t have to talk about those things in a sad way or feel guilty for smiling as I talked about them; I could just share them as nice little souvenirs that I would always have to remember him.

Now, almost ten years after his death, I have so many good memories of growing up with my dad, and it’s because I shared them at Kids’ Haven rather than pushing them away. Sometimes it’s painful to remember, but talking about those good things were equally as important as talking about the bad things that happened when he died or the sadness I had felt since.

I’m a senior in high school now, and I’ve recently gone back to intern and volunteer at Kids’ Haven. Now I go to group nights, help set up, and sit in with the elementary age group. I help facilitate conversations and activities and share parts of my story with kids going through the same thing I did. This summer I’ve been helping in the office with some organization and community outreach as well. Kids’ Haven has been such a major part of my life that has been integral in shaping who I am. The understanding of grief that I gained helped me become aware of my emotions and made me feel less alone at an incredibly difficult time in my life. Most importantly, it was a way for me to honor and remember my dad, not only helping me express how I felt about his death, but also reminding me of how much joy I have contained in the memories of his life.